


In which Gendry punches Robert Baratheon in the face

by crossingwinter



Series: The Stripper AU No One Asked For [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...and then has sex with Arya.  That's it. That's the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Gendry punches Robert Baratheon in the face

“We should go in,” Arya says, but she doesn’t move.  She just stares at the front door of her parents’ house, wishing her heart weren’t thumping in her chest.

“Yeah.” Gendry doesn’t move either.  He licks his lips and takes a deep breath.  “How many people’ll be there?”

“Mum said there should be close to thirty.”

“Thirty.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Uh huh.”

“That’s totally going to be manageable.  Like, you can easily not bump into people when there are thirty guests.”

“Totally.”

They have different reasons to be nervous, of course, and Arya’s quite sure that hers pales in comparison to Gendry’s.  Arya’s nervous because never in her life has she brought a boyfriend to a full-on Stark family gathering, and she remembers what it was like the first time that Robb brought Jeyne over, or Sansa brought Ned.  It can be a veritable inquisition, if a well-intentioned one. And sure, Gendry’s met her parents, and met Sansa, and he and Jon know each other very well at this point, but…but all of them at the same time?  In her parents’ house?  She feels like she’s a nervous high schooler, except she’d never dated anyone in high school.  She pushes that thought down.  Just because she’s home doesn’t mean she has to regress.

And though she’s nervous about that—and she is—nervous enough not to want to move as she reaches for Gendry’s hand—oh god, his hand is sweaty, he must be _really_ nervous.

Of course, he has a very good reason.

Robert Baratheon’s in there. 

And the last time Gendry saw Robert Baratheon was just as his mom was getting sick, and Robert had refused to help pay for his college tuition while his mom was in the hospital. And because Robert had refused to pay Gendry’s college tuition, he’d had to drop out and start working at the garage and start stripping.

“It’ll be fine,” Arya says at the same time Gendry says, “Ok then.” 

She glances sideways at him and squeezes his hand.  He squeezes back and she reaches for the door.

There are already tons of people inside, and they’re largely unnoticed as they edge into the living room. Arya scans around for Jon, but doesn’t see a sign of him anywhere. 

“There you are!” She hears her father’s voice and turns, feeling a smile spread across her face. “Wonder what had kept you.” He kisses her cheek and gives her a quick hug, before extending his hand to Gendry.  “How are you?”

“Well,” Gendry responds with a quick, tight smile.  “And you?”

“Nothing like having the whole family home,” her father smiles and he glances around the room, and Arya sees genuine delight spread across his face.  “Even my little brother’s here, and it’s hard to drag him out of the wilds.”

“Uncle Ben’s here?” Arya asks quickly.

“Oh yeah. He’s helping Jon and your mother with the barbecue.”

“Why isn’t Robb helping with the barbecue?” Arya asks slowly.  Robb is possessive of the barbecue.

“Robb is grilling Bran’s new girlfriend.”  Her father looks at her significantly, as though he has thoughts that he will share with her later, when Gendry’s not around.

Arya narrows her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t beli—”

“She’s just a little old is all.”

“So?  Gendry’s older than I am.”

“Yes, but Bran is younger than you, and Meera’s older than Robb.”

Arya rolls her eyes and elbows her father.  “Bran can make his own choices.”

“I didn’t say he couldn’t,” her father replies quickly, and Arya grins at him.  She turns to Gendry and feels her grin slide off her face.  Gendry’s staring into the room, his eyes fixed on Uncle Robert and Arya grabs his hand again. He starts and looks down at her and she twitches her lips at him in what she hopes he will interpret as a _don’t torture yourself_ expression.

He takes a deep breath and nods to her. 

The room is full of cheerful noise, and a radio station that only Jon would have picked because Jon’s the only one who is firmly insistent about listening to classic rock. And as she and Gendry make their way through it, it becomes almost like a dance, almost like clockwork. Whenever Arya catches sight of Robert moving across the room, she and Gendry move in the opposite direction, moving between her uncle Edmure and Robb’s mother-in-law and old Mr. Luwin from next door who had helped tutor all of them at one point or another.

And as Robert moves on to Jon and Robb and Theon, Arya and Gendry move on to Ned and Sansa. Sansa is sitting down, her stomach swollen and a very pink lemonade in her hand, while Ned leans on the armrest of the couch next to her.

“How long till you pop?” Gendry asks her, grinning.

Sansa flushes, and Arya hopes _very_ much she’s not remembering Gendry naked, but knows she probably is.  She does that every time she sees him, it seems, and Arya’s not stupid.  She just…well she can’t wish Sansa hadn’t seen, because then she wouldn’t have met Gendry to begin with, but she wishes Sansa would grow up and handle it a little better. “Two weeks, if everything’s on schedule,” Sansa says.

“You nervous?”

Sansa just shakes her head. “Not really.  I…I mostly just want to be able to pee regularly again.”  She rests her hand on the bump of her stomach and wriggles her nose.  “He’s kicking again.”

“You’re sure it’s a boy?” Arya asks for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Well, that’s what the sonograms say,” says Ned and he wraps an arm around Sansa protectively.

“I was supposed to be a girl,” shrugs Gendry. 

“We picked a neutral color scheme for the baby’s room anyway,” smiles Sansa.  “Speaking of peeing regularly…” she puts her lemonade down on the coffee table in front of her and heaves herself to her feet. “Arya, can you come with me?”

“Yeah—I’ll…” Arya glances at Gendry.  He’s got wide eyes now and looks like he’s trying very hard to seem calm.  “I’ll be right back.”

“It’ll only be a minute,” Sansa promises before looping her arm through Arya’s and the two of them make their way through the crowded living room.

“What’s up?” Arya asks her, as they make their way down the hallway. 

“I had to tell Ned.”

“Tell Ned what?”

“Tell Ned about Gendry. And…and my bachelorette party.” Sansa looks nervous, as though she’s frightened of whatever Arya might say.

“You mean you hadn’t told him?” Arya asks, confused.

“No.  I hadn’t.”

“So both of those dinners…”

“Yeah—that was just them not getting on too well.”

Arya takes a deep breath. “Sansa—I need to get back.”

Sansa looks confused. “What?  It’s not a problem.  Ned’s fine with it.  Well, he’s uncomfortable with it, but he’s all right with it. They won’t get into a fight or—”

But Arya’s shaking her head.  “It’s Uncle _Robert_.”

Sansa’s mouth opens in a silent “oh” and the bathroom door opens and their cousin Robert emerges, looking pale and shaky. 

“All yours,” he says, smiling at Sansa, before disappearing towards the kitchen where, presumably, his mother is.

“I’m going back,” Arya says, and Sansa nods to her as she goes into the bathroom.

While Arya’s sure that it _could_ be fine, and she could be nervous about nothing, she also knows how fate works, how stories work, how if you leave Gendry on his own in a room that contains his father while he is hoping to avoid him, they will invariably meet. 

And she’s not wrong.

“Work hard, play hard—am I right?  That’s what I always say,” Robert slurs, leaning into Gendry’s shoulder and patting him on the back. “And you get to do both.”

Gendry’s jaw is tighter than Arya’s ever seen it.  _I shouldn’t have left him on his own_ , she thinks bitterly as she weaves her way through her parents’ guests to reach them.  Ned had, as she’d feared, drifted away.

“Uncle Robert,” Arya says loudly.  “Can I get you another drink?” Robert turns to face her, and he smiles.  His lips are wet and Arya wishes they weren’t the same shape as Gendry’s. 

“You look lovely in green,” Robert says.  “And that shirt makes your tits seem bigger.  Lovely.  Lovely. Whoopsies.”  He sways a little too far to his left and stumbles a bit.  Gendry doesn’t reach out to help him back to his feet.  His arms are crossed over his chest, and his jaw is tighter than Arya’s ever seen it in her life.  _Oh god, I need to get them away from one another_ , she thinks. 

She thinks it too late, however.

“Don’t know what you see in this one,” Robert says as he heaves himself upright again.  “He’s grumpy.  Grumpy like his mom and—” 

And that’s it. Gendry’s fist connects with Robert’s jaw and the room goes silent as Robert topples backwards into the couch. Arya hears Sansa’s gasp and her father’s cry of “Now hang on a second!” and even sees Jon skirting the group gathered around Robb to get nearer.

“What the fuck was that for!” bellows Robert, running his hand over the spot where Gendry had punched him.  There’s blood on his lips from where he’d bitten his lip and his eyes are hard and angry as he seems to inflate. 

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother,” Gendry spits at him and Arya grabs his arm to keep him from taking a step towards Robert.  “Don’t you talk to Arya that way, don’t you talk about my life at all.”

“You fucking—” Robert begins but her dad has arrived and has taken him by the arm.

“Robert,” Arya hears her father intone, “Robert—calm down.”

“The fucking bastard just punched me in the face, Ned,” Robert roars.

“Come on,” Arya hisses to Gendry, tugging at him.

“Yeah,” he snorts angrily turning on his heel and following her out of the living room.

“Should have worn a fucking condom!” Robert shouts after him.

“Gendry—” Arya begins, tightening her grip on his arm as he lurches back towards the living room. “Please, come on.”

Gendry is breathing heavily as they climb the stairs away from everyone.  They can hear Robert’s muffled shouts through the floor as Arya opens the door to her old bedroom.  It’s got boxes of stuff that they’d moved out of her great-uncle Brynden’s when he’d died and that her mom is still in the process of categorizing, but other than that, it’s the same as it was when she was in high school, posters of rock bands taped to the walls and children’s and young adult books in a whitewashed bookshelf by the window.

Gendry paces and his eyes are flashing furiously.

“Fucking cocksucker,” he growls and Arya tugs at a loose thread on her bedspread.  “Oh I should have hit him harder.”

“Gendry,” Arya breathes.

“Did you hear him?” Gendry snaps at her.  “Did you hear him?” He points at the door with a snap of his wrist and Arya bites her lip. “Work hard play hard? What the fuck is that? What does he fucking know about it?  Complete fucker. And then he goes and brings my mom into it and—” Gendry stops.  He goes completely still, his eyes closed and he’s breathing deeply.

Arya crosses to him and wraps her arms around him, squeezing him as tightly as she can.

“I hate him,” he mumbles into the top of her head.  “I hate him so much.  I hate him, I hate that he…that…” He stops and she feels him move his arms beneath hers, feels his hands holding onto her waist as he squeezes her as tightly as he can. “Fuck,” he says. “Fuck everything in my life that’s bad is because of him.  It is. Just fuck.”

Arya squeezes him tighter, closing her eyes against the cotton of his t-shirt, breathing in the scent of him, feeling the pounding of his heart against her cheek.

“Focus on the good,” she murmurs.  “Focus on the good. You’re nearly done stripping. You’re going back to school. You’ve overcome so much and you’re going to go so much farther.  And that’s because of you.”

She feels his lips in her hair, feels his breath against her scalp.  “Yeah,” he says a little shakily.  “Yeah.  I know. I…Look, I love your parents, but can we please not come to things where he’s here?”

“Done,” Arya says. She’s fairly certain that there won’t be much convincing necessary, after that punch.  She can’t hear Robert’s shouting anymore, at least. Just the sound of classic rock.

She’s not sure how long they stand like that, Gendry hunched over her, their arms around one another. She’s not sure when Gendry’s breath steadies against the top of her head, or when his heart rate begins to slow.

“This your room?” he asks her. 

“Mmhmm,” she hums into his shirt.  She feels his head moving, looking around and she tilts her chin up to watch him.

“I don’t think I’ve been in here before,” he says. 

Arya frowns. “I thought that I showed you at my birthday.”

Gendry shakes his head. “No.  It was full up with boxes, remember? I got through the door, but couldn’t see anything.  It’s nice.”   He’s smiling and he reaches over to her curtains and runs his fingers down them. 

“It’s small,” Arya says. “It’s the smallest of them.”

“I still like it,” he breathes.  He looks back down at her and she stands on the tips of her toes and kisses him.

“You calm?” she whispers.

“Nearly there,” he half smiles.  She kisses him again, this time more slowly, her tongue tracing the outside of his lips. “Focusing on the good right now.” And his hand drops to her ass and squeezes.

She lets out a laughy breath and he grins into her lips.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.  Focusing on the good helps block out the bad, you know.” 

“I see what you did there.”

“Very clever of you.” He shifts his hips very slightly and she smirks, feeling the beginnings of his erection against her leg.

He begins to suck on her neck, right at the part where it hinges with her shoulder and she sighs, letting her hands drift over his back.  She finds the hem of his shirt and slides her hands up against his skin. It’s warm under her fingers and she sighs happily as he continues to suck at her neck. 

“Do you think they’ll wonder where we are?” Gendry asks her as she drops her hands beneath the waistline of his pants and kneads into his ass. 

“If they do, I hope they have the good sense not to come looking,” she responds with a slight gasp as Gendry reaches up between them and begins unbuttoning her shirt. He pulls one breast free of her bra and rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and Arya suppresses a moan. 

“It would be rather poor timing if Jon decided to come and be big brotherly,” Gendry agrees. Arya snorts, but pulls away. “Where are you—?”

“I’m going to lock the door,” Arya laughs.  She feels him trailing after her, hears the sounds of his feet after hers and she smiles as she reaches the door.  She locks it with a click and turns back to Gendry.  He’s standing over her, cheeks flushed, eyes more black than blue and she reaches up and cups his chin before bringing his lips down to hers. He brings his own hands to her face.

She’s never had a boy in her room before.  Not that she hadn’t wanted to, of course, but…she’d never really felt ready for that when she was in high school, and the boys she’d dated in college all lived far away and never came to visit during breaks.  She’d imagined it, of course, lying in bed some nights and wondering if she’d ever find someone who would look at her the way that Gendry is right now. And some part of her had been terrified that she wouldn’t find him. 

“Gendry?” she breathes into him.

He continues to nip at her lips.  “Yeah?”

“Can we please…” she blushes and bites her lip.

“Ok, this is going to be good.” he teases lightly, and Arya rolls her eyes. 

“Shut up.”

“What is it?”

“I just always had this fantasy in high school about blowing someone while my parents were downstairs.”

Gendry lets out a half-incredulous laugh.  “Well.  I would hate to disappoint your high school fantasies, then.”  He’s grinning broadly, and he kisses her again, even as she reaches down between them and unbuckles his belt and draws his cock out. She sinks down to her knees, doing her best not to put too much of her weight onto them because she knows they’ll start to hurt otherwise, and she draws him deep down into her mouth.

Gendry groans and his fingers knot in her hair as she licks along the length of his shaft, tracing a vein with her tongue, circling the tip.  She bobs her head, sucking him in, caressing him with her tongue as he traces circles into her scalp and breathes heavily.

And god she loves this, loves the feeling of him standing there, the sound of his breath, the way his hands feel in her hair, knowing that he’s completely at her mercy. She loves it, loves the way she feels the pulsing of his cock through her lips, the way his skin is so soft, the brush of his pubic hair against her fingers as she holds the stem of him. She loves knowing that he’s groaning because of her, because she’s doing this to him, but most of all, she loves that right now, it’s just the two of them, and whatever happened before, downstairs is fading away for this moment.

“How is this living up to your high school fantasies?” Gendry asks her, his breath hitching. Arya releases him from her mouth, but continues pumping his cock between her hands, her saliva shining along his length, making his skin slick as she continues to rub him.

“Well, I’d say it’s better than I could have thought.”

“Better?” he smirks. “How so?”

“You have a bigger dick than I thought was possible in high school,” she says frankly and he laughs. “Also, you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.  You.”  And she leans forward again and kisses the tip of his cock, tasting salty precum on her lips as she opens them and draws him in again. 

“You know, you can’t just say things like—” he whimpers as she cups his balls in her hands, “that.”

She takes his cock from her mouth again and runs her hands along it again.  “Like what?”

“Like me.”

“What about you?”

And he’s pulling her to her feet again and he’s kissing her hard, his tongue pressing into her mouth and rubbing against hers and he walks her backwards so that she’s flush between him and the door.  He’s got his hand up her skirt now, and he’s pushed aside her underpants and she gasps feeling his fingers slipping along her lips, spreading her moisture over the surface of her skin as he kisses her and presses against her.

“You know,” he breathes, “when I was in high school, I had this fantasy about fucking a girl against the door of her bedroom.”  And Arya raises herself onto her tip-toes and kisses the underside of his jaw, finding his pulse and sucking on it as he slides a finger inside her.

“Any girl in particular?” Arya asks, and Gendry snorts. 

“Really?”

“What?” Arya blushes. She shouldn’t have asked, but she wasn’t exactly thinking straight.  She’s not thinking any straighter now as he slides another finger inside her and curls them slightly.

“I’m fingering you in your bedroom and you’re asking about my high school crush?” Gendry doesn’t sound particularly angry about it.  He’s grinning down at her and—oh fuck he’s pushing another finger in and Arya closes her eyes and moans.  “She’s irrelevant.  The most irrelevant. You though—” and he kisses her neck and Arya whimpers.  “You I love more than I could ever love anyone else.  So if you don’t mind—”

“I really don’t,” she gasps and he laughs again.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to fuck you against your bedroom door now.”  And his fingers are gone, and she feels him fumbling for a second before his cock is sheathed inside her and she gasps and clutches at his shoulders as his hands drop to her legs and bring them around his hips.

And she loves it, loves him, loves the feeling of the hard wood against her back, the thumping of the door as it rocks against its frame in time with the movement of Gendry’s hips against hers.  She loves the feeling of him losing himself in her, of his face buried in her neck, of her exposed breast rubbing against his t-shirt and his jeans dropping from around his hips to the floor as he fucks her, and all she can do is gasp his name over and over and over again, faster and faster as his cock moves faster and faster inside her, deeper and deeper until she feels that familiar warmth, that familiar wetness of him coming apart inside her. 

And she holds him, holds him not because she’ll fall if she doesn’t, but because she needs to, because he needs her to as his heart and breath slows and his cock stops twitching inside her.

He starts to laugh again.

“What is it?” she asks, kissing him.  She tastes sweat on his neck as she makes her way up to his lips. 

“Fuck I’m going to have to face your dad in a minute, and I just punched his best friend and then fucked his daughter against her bedroom door.”

“Honestly, I don’t think he’d blame you for either,” Arya teases, and she reaches up and cups his chin, and sucks on his lower lip for a moment.  “If he does, I’ll have something to say about it.”

“You will?”

“Yep.”

“Dad, I wanted my boyfriend to have sex with me after he punched his shitbag father.  This is none of your business.”

“Something to that effect, probably.  Though more likely that I’d try and get him to think it was a good idea for you on both counts.”

“That’s impressive. I mean that’s gutsy right there.”

“I bet I could pull it off.”

“If anyone could, it would be you.  Fuck you’re amazing.”

His tongue is in her mouth again and she wriggles against him.  She knows he’ll get her off in a moment—he always does—but if he’s going to kiss her so hard she feels breathless she’s not going to stay still. He doesn’t move though, he doesn’t touch her part from his chest pressed against hers.  His hands are squarely on either side of them gripping the door frame, and even if his cock is still inside her for the moment, it’s going slack and his hips aren’t moving at all and she’s stuck between him and the door and can’t quite get the friction she wants.

“Gendry,” she whines and he laughs.

“Want something?”

“Ideally, yes.”

He draws his hips back slightly and pulls his cock loose.  “What are you thinking?  Any other fantasies?”  She hears the sound of him tugging his boxers back up over his cock, and she stretches, arching her back. 

“I’m not picky right now,” she sighs.

“Ok.  Hold on to the top of the door frame.” Gendry sounds so matter of fact that she raises her eyebrows as he drops his hands to her legs and unhooks them from his hips.

“Gendry?”

He sinks to his knees and then brings her legs up so that they are resting on his shoulders. “You balanced?” he asks her and she feels his breath tickling her cunt.

“I’m going to fall if you’re not careful,” she smirks down at him.

“That’s why I told you to hold on to the door frame,” he says dryly, and Arya rolls her eyes at him. She doesn’t have time to think of a retort though because his tongue is licking along her outer lips now, and she moans.

She keeps her eyes open, feeling her heart pound in her chest as Gendry’s tongue continues to work between her legs, feeling the exhilileration that comes with the sensation that she’s breaking every rule her mother had ever put in place.  And god she loves the feel of his tongue between her legs, the way that she barely has to think something, more pressure there, oh please and he just seems to know, as if he can read her mind, or read her body, or maybe he just knows because he planned it that way, planned for her to need his tongue on her clit, to need it to circle and press and oh she wants to arch her back but she’s scared she’ll lose balance and fall so she can’t she has to keep still.

He’s got one of his hands under her ass, his thumb rubbing at the bottom of her slit, and she whimpers as it presses higher, presses deeper.  His tongue drops for a moment, slides inside her and she hears him groan, feels him groan because his lips and mouth are humming inside her and she gasps at the feeling of it and her hips nudge forward so that her clit brushes against his nose.  And she’s not sure if it’s the sturdiness of his nose, or the fact that his tongue is pushing deeper into her than she remembers it having done, or the fact that he’s making another noise but she’s coming, her fingers tightening on the doorframe and lifting her up by a fraction of an inch and Gendry seems to rise with her, his tongue now back on her clit and his thumb inside her as she gasps and moans in alternation, and as she feels her heart pumping blood straight to her cunt and back, as though it’s the only part of her that needs life right now, as if the rest of her hardly matters at all.

Gendry guides her down to the floor and he kisses her, still trembling, still panting, and she feels like she melts into him, leaning forward and resting her head against his chest.

“Do we have to go back down?” Gendry asks her.

“Probably,” she sighs. She slips her breast back into her bra and begins buttoning up her shirt.

“I am going to be grinning ridiculously if your dad tries to berate me and it’s going to be a problem.”

She looks up and kisses him. 

“It won’t be a problem. I promise.  I won’t let it be.”


End file.
